


Useless Pride

by BrittleDame



Series: Shiratorizawa Thirst Chronicles [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angry & Oblivious Goshiki, Angry Kissing, Arguing & Making Out, Casual interference by his senpais, Change Room Sex, Cheerleader Reader, F/M, Marking, Reader-Insert, Strength Kink, Swearing, Underlying Jealousy, Vaginal Fingering, semi-rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittleDame/pseuds/BrittleDame
Summary: After knowing Goshiki for nearly a year, for the life of you, you just couldn’t figure out why Goshiki uselessly devotes himself body and soul to embody ‘Shiratorizawa pride’. On the other hand, Tsutomu couldn’t fathom why you would turn up to practice cheer at their matches if you weren’t going to completely dedicate yourself fully to your sport.These wildly different views cause the both of you to clash during practice, which results in Goshiki confronting you and getting an unexpected resolution.
Relationships: Goshiki Tsutomu/Reader
Series: Shiratorizawa Thirst Chronicles [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856311
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	Useless Pride

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/brittledame) that I was excited to work on, albeit I haven’t written for Goshiki before so I hope I didn’t do him dirty…

Starting somewhere new is always an ordeal, one you had hoped to avoid the tumultuous start and ease into the next three years of your life. Unfortunately for you, one Goshiki Tsutomu took it upon himself to dislike you and shatter your dreams of an easy transition.

In all honesty, you didn’t even know he was in your class until a friend shushed him for being too rambunctious during biology. The next thing you learnt about him was that Goshiki is here on a sports scholarship, but if schoolgirl rumours were to be believed, it wasn’t needed with his parents’ large bank accounts.

Some may be brave enough to label him as egotistic, although many described his attitude as well-earned pride for making the starting line-up as a first year. You, however, see his bombastic attitude as an exhausting effort with no evident pay off.

Being a cheerleader, you’ve had the displeasure of seeing the ugly truth to academic sports. It is almost a given that you would see egotism at its finest while attending a private school boasting the finest athletes in the prefecture and beyond, and Goshiki was not immune to this stereotype.

With a sports scholarship came the stipulations of maintaining a decent overall grade across your classes, as well as attending all practices and games unless medical issues popped up. Shiratorizawa strives for perfection and accepted nothing less. Practice games were carried out with the same diligence as official matches. Even though the cheer team has official competitions scheduled and complex floor routines that needed rehearsing, it was an unsaid clause that the squad served as a morale booster for the many sport teams composing Shiratorizawa’s elite athlete force.

Today you find yourself on the balcony overlooking a practice match between the volleyball team and a skilled university team from another prefecture. Volleyball wasn’t a sport that you were entirely familiar with, and honestly put, with assignments looming over your head, you thought this afternoon could have been better spent.

Fatigue ate away at the excited energy that fuelled you at the beginning of your first year, leaving behind dark bags under your eyes and half-assessed answers in class when called upon by especially cruel teachers. Cheer practice has been running on overtime with winter competitions making an entrance, many sports teams ‘requiring’ the cheer team’s support.

So what if your high kick wasn’t at a perfect forty-five degree angle, or that your arms weren’t perfectly straight as you wave them around, or that your voice lacked the same pep and volume the rest of your team shouted with? No one on the team seemed to care, understanding that first year was arguably the most draining, and the coaches were pretty forgiving, so you thought it was fine.

Later on, you’d come to find this was a great oversight on your part because the aspiring ace of the national-placing volleyball team had an apparent issue with your blatant lack of zest.

Speaking of the devil, he lands from an impressive jump from slamming the ball down on the other side of the net, earning the team a sorely-needed point, eating up the praise his senior teammates throw at him. You catch his eye and watch as his mega-watt smile dims into a frown at the eye contact.

Mimicking his frown, you’re trying to reason why he’d react that way to your presence, that is until a hard elbow digs into your side and startles you out of thought. Your senior gives you a pointed smile, a harsh reminder that you were here to cheer and that you were most definitely not waving your hands about in concise circles.

“We’re here to look happy and cheer. I suggest you start doing one of those things.” Your captain hisses to you through a practiced toothy smile.

Following her direction, plastering the biggest smile you can muster, you offer a mumbled apology.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

She doesn’t acknowledge that she heard it, but you felt like shit anyway. Your captain has been nothing but forgiving with your endless excuses and intense schedule, and now she has to lecture you during a rally?

Yeah, not your best moment.

* * *

The whistle blows, signalling a short mid-game break. Sweaty and drained, Tsutomu thankfully accepts a bottle and towel from Taichi. While this isn’t his first practice match, it certainly is his longest and as much as it pains him to admit, his stamina is nowhere near Ushijima’s level. Tsutomu is starting to falter with the consistent tosses Shirabu sent his way, following Washijou’s strict orders of pushing Tsutomu to his limit.

“Ah man, they’re so cute. I wish we had cheerleaders at our games.” A deep voice spoke up behind Tsutomu. Ears perking up at the mention of the cheer team, he focuses in on the conversation.

“Yeah, I guess.” Another voice responds, sounding half-hearted. “Have you notice the one in the front, off to the left? She’s a beat behind the rest. Looks kind of sloppy to me.”

The first guy laughs in response and Tsutomu’s cheeks burn with second-hand embarrassment.

“Yeah, I have actually.” The first guy agrees, pausing to take a long swig of his drink before continuing, “ She distracted me a few times actually. No wonder why these kids haven’t pulled ahead… Although, maybe they’re not as good as everyone talks them up to be.”

At this, Tsutomu whips his head around and glares at them. The older guys, who Tsutomu enviously notes being more bulkier than he, startle at their sudden one-man audience.

“Goshiki, stop.” Shirabu says off to his left, knocking his elbow into Tsutomu’s ribs painfully. “You have all the ferocity of a wet kitten.”

“But they’re smack talking us!” Tsutomu contends.

“I’d hardly call that smack talking.” Shirabu deadpans. Tsutomu shrinks a little under the setter’s silent ire, not wanting today to end with Shirabu serving a ball to the back of his head because he pissed him off again.

To add to his embarrassment, a trio of their seniors waltz over with curious expressions, attracted by the ruckus.

“For once I agree with Shirabu. After all, he is the connoisseur of insults.” Semi interjects with a grin, earning himself a glare much fiercer than the one Tsutomu received.

Tendou wraps a long arm around Tsutomu’s sagging shoulders. “I say leave them be, we’ll crush them in the second-half anyway with Ushijima now warmed up.” Everyone glanced over to said ace, who sported an intense aura that screamed he was more than ready to earn back the lost points three-fold.

“What’s more interesting is that it’s affected you, my dearest kouhai.” Tendou ponders out loud with a finger on his chin, leaving Tsutomu wishing to disappear now more than ever. “You’ve never minded other teams talking about us or the girls before, so why now?” The tall middle blocker leans down and peers straight through Tsutomu’s soul.

Tsutomu shifts in place under the overwhelming pressure of their attention and quickly admits what has been eating away at his focus during his most recent games. “That’s because this time they’re right.” He mutters.

At this, the small group give him an odd look and he buckles under their combine scrutiny, hanging his head and talking to the ground. “The girl they’re talking about is my classmate and she’s been distracting me with how bad she’s performing today as well.”

“Okay…” Semi unsurely starts, shooting Yamagata and Tendou a confused look, uncertain on how to proceed. Thankfully, Tendou takes one for the team and gives the sullen boy a loud clap on the back and showers him with a radiant smile when Tsutomu peeks up with a subtle pout.

“Maybe it’s just her off day?” Tendou helpfully supplies, with Semi and Yamagata nodding in agreement. “We all have one. If it’s really an issue, you could always talk to her about what’s up and help.”

Semi moves to Tsutomu’s other side and fondly ruffles his hair, not stopping until Tsutomu shirks him off. “For once, Satori has a valid point.” Semi comments, impressed.

“Hey, don’t be rude!” Tendou goes to swipe at the ash blonde setter and misses when Semi ducks and dances backwards out of reach. “I can be wise when I want to be! I’m channelling my inner wise grandpa to the protagonist persona.” Tendou hollers after him.

Now besides Yamagata, who was trying his hardest to stifle his laughter, Semi shakes his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, nor do I want to.”

A sharp whistle breaks up what was sure to end up in a bickering match between the two third-years. Thankful, Tsutomu jogs to the court and resumes his position, relived that he escaped their interrogation. By all means, he should be entirely focused on the game and not on where you stood perched against the railing with a bored look.

Tsutomu catches himself with his wondering attention latching onto you and digs his nails into his palm, the bite of pain helping him centre himself to the court. His odd behaviour isn’t missed by the others, Shirabu sending him a sharp look when Goshiki fails to respond to his subtle hand gestures signalling his next set choice.

Now annoyed, more so with himself than you, Tsutomu pushes all thoughts to you to the side, reasoning that Tendou is right and that it must be an off day for you.

Surely.

Behind him, the older team members share a knowing look with one another, recognising the evident trace of jealousy hiding behind Goshiki’s frustrations, yet none of them wanted to be the one to point it out to the oblivious first year.

* * *

Turns out it wasn’t an off day for you.

Unfortunately, it was more like an off _month_.

With every practice game, like a clockwork you’d turn up with a group of girls decked out in purple and white uniforms with a dull expression during warm-ups. Unlike the first time, the proceeding practice games were punctuated with more members of the opposing team pointing out your lacklustre performance.

Initially, Goshiki was frustrated with you, now he’s flat-out irritated. How the hell hasn’t your captain or coach pulled you up for it?

He can’t spare the time to ponder the question as the ball comes flying by his face and slamming down behind him, securing match point for the opposing team. Goshiki clenches his teeth and he once again finds himself fending off a pissed Shirabu and a teasing Tendou due to you distracting him.

The mounting mix of annoyance and anger towards you amounts to Tsutomu finally snapping and deciding to take up his senior’s advice in confronting you. This was his only option. He can’t afford to slip up anymore, Washijou’s threats of benching him have made that _abundantly_ clear.

As the final buzzer goes off, signalling their landslide win against yet another collegiate team, the usual post-game buzz doesn’t find him. His stomach felt like it was twisting into knots throughout the entire debrief, eyes constantly flitting up to the stands to make sure that you haven’t left yet.

Sure enough, Tsutomu uses the final ounce of luck he possess to catch up to your retreating form as the coaches give the team the shortest lecture to date.

“Hey!” He calls out, waving his hand at you to catch your attention.

Turning around, you were obviously expecting someone else as your polite expression tightens when you realise he was shouting for you. This further fuelled the fire building inside of Tsutomu.

“What’s up?” You ask with a cocked brow and a hand on your hip.

“I want to talk to you,” Tsutomu internally rejoices at his voice not cracking under the pressure, “and if you have the time, I want you to meet me by the change room.”

“Sure.” You say, drawing out the word and showing your distrust in this situation. To be fair, you both have barely shared a handful of proper conversations and now here he was, asking for a private chat.

Happy that he didn’t have to use his lacklustre persuasive skills, he gives you a singular nod before shooting off towards the change room for a shower. Hopefully, it’ll allow him some time to regain composure over his racing heart.

He barely spoke to you and yet his nerves are taking over. He frowns. Confronting you is going to be much harder than he anticipated.

Sneaking into the change room, no one acknowledges him as he slips past and begins slowly pulling things from his locker. Surprisingly, no one gave Tsutomu grief over lagging behind and being quite transparent with his plan.

It took much longer than he wanted for the team to file out and he was getting antsy with worry that you left. Ushijima was the last to leave and Tsutomu can say with all honestly this is the first time he wanted to kick a senior out, fingers drumming on the bench as he mentally tallies off everyone that had left.

Ushijima stops in front of Tsutomu, eyeing the way the first-year’s leg jitters and clears his throat. Tsutomu looks up to Ushijima with sparkles in his eyes when the large third-year hands him the gym keys and parts with a stern, “I trust you to lock everything up properly when you’re done.”

Tsutomu fervently nods, clutching at the keys as Ushijima claps his shoulder before striding out. Planted to the spot from the rare display of fondness, Tsutomu physically shakes himself to keep on track and not keep you waiting any longer.

* * *

After what felt like hours awkwardly idling across from the change room, you finally see Goshiki with his head peeking out of the door and lever him an impatient look. When you agreed to this, you had hoped that this will take less than five minutes and already he’s wasted even more valuable time.

“What did you want to talk about?” You call out, watching him slip out the door and walk towards you. Standing in front of you, now dressed in a sweatshirt and shorts, eyes steadfastly focused on your exposed legs, it never struck you how large the other first year was under the purple and white uniform. This revelation threw you for a loop.

“Can I be honest with what I want to say to you?” Goshiki says, stare finally lifting from the floor.

Crossing your arms, you wipe the more indecent thought tangents from your mind before speaking. “Sure, speak your mind.”

And just like that, a deluge of words pours out of Goshiki. Throughout his rant, you stand there stupefied as you catch some phrases such as _“not representing the school properly”_ and _“humiliating display”,_ as well as a _“how can you say that you are a part of the cheer team when you make us look so bad?”_.

The last dig admittedly cut deeper than the rest, enough to render you speechless as he wraps up his long-winded vent.

“You can’t be serious.” You state after he finishes, utterly floored. “Did you honestly keep me back to just insult me? I can’t believe this.” Anger roars within you at Goshiki’s gall. You didn’t plan to pick a fight, but this was a dick move and you sure as hell weren’t going to stand for it.

“If you pull your head out of your own ass for two seconds, you might notice that the sun doesn’t shine out of it.” You hiss, vitriol layered thick enough to sting.

Not anticipating you fighting back, Goshiki stares at you with a dumb look, shocked, but chooses stands his ground.

“I am serious. You’re throwing the entire team off their rhythm.” It was an obvious lie, but Goshiki was far too proud to admit that. Your face darkens and Goshiki hardens his own, he’s come this far, there’s no way he’s stopping now when the going gets tough.

“Fuck you.” You throw at him, turning on your heel, going to storm out of the gym, seething with rage. If you stayed for another second, you were going to leave with an assault charge on your hands.

A large hand wraps around shoulder, holding you in place and you shortly contemplate unleashing a flurry of curses that would make even coach Washijou cringe. Knowing that would end with you getting a write up, you bat off his hand without turning around and continue to walk away from a highly volatile situation.

“No. I’m not done talking to you.”

“Unless you want to leave infertile, _yes,_ you are.” You insist, turning around and readying yourself to put all those self-defence lessons to work and knee this self-righteous asshole right in the family jewels.

Tsutomu huffs a breath through his nose, entirely fed up with this rapidly devolving situation. Why the hell couldn’t you just stand there and here him out? It wasn’t that hard. All he asks is that listen to him and change your attitude, and now for the second time you’re looking ready to bolt. Swearing on his family name, Tsutomu wasn’t about to waste all this effort.

The breath in your lungs leave in a stunned gasp as your back meets the wall. Swinging your gaze upwards, your wide eyes meets Goshiki’s dark ones. Your blood now roars for a different reason, one more pleasant than ire. The display of strength shouldn’t be turning you on, especially when it’s Goshiki of all people and yet your traitorous heart thunders.

Goshiki stares down at you, looking almost just as shocked as you at the new position.

“What the _hell_ , Goshiki.”

Gathering his scattered confidence, he feigns a tough voice. “You’re not leaving until we sort this out.”

“Oh?” You huff a sardonic laugh. “And what do you propose for us to do that?”

Goshiki blinks down at you twice, feeling as if you pulled the rug out from underneath him yet again. Your sudden change in demeanour once again feeling off-kilter, something he hates.

“Just promise that you’ll try harder.” Goshiki replies levelly, trying his hardest to be mature and read the mood and failing when you give a bark of laughter at his earnestness.

“No can do. I lack the proper motivation.” You choose not-so sly words that were somewhat close to the truth, hoping that Goshiki isn’t entirely oblivious to the way you eye him.

The dark stare considers you for a moment, mulling over your words and flitting across your face. Talking to you shouldn’t feel like solving an enigma and yet here he was, trying to decipher where you were leading with this.

“Motivation?” Goshiki prods, to which you smile in affirmation. “Isn’t cheering for our school enough?”

 _Good thing he’s cute because he’s a dense as a black hole_. You bite your lip as you construct another sentence that was both concealed and exposed what you wanted. Unwittingly, he draws closer and you could feel the heat from a good training session emanating off of his skin. It was a welcome relief to the draft of the hallway.

You hum thoughtfully. “Not really. There’s a lot of prestigious schools we face off on the weekly, so I don’t really care about that.” Goshiki’s eyes flash, but you continue. “I need something more… fulfilling.” You finish coyly, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. Screw beating around the bush, you needed to know if Goshiki is reacting the same way to your proximity and if he reacts negatively then you can leave here quicker.

Your gaze never strays from him as you speak, and you have the joy of spotting the exact moment it all falls into place for Goshiki. Cheeks heating, Goshiki’s heart is doing something unprecedented in his chest. You mentally cheer as his eyes flit down to your lips that curl upwards in victory.

“And I think you can help me with that.” You whisper, forcing him to lean even further into you.

Drawing your faces together, you couldn’t be more obvious of what you wanted unless you painted it on your forehead. Thankfully, it finally dawns on Goshiki just how close you were, your hands perched on his shoulders with his caging you against the wall. Taking in a shuddering breath, you close your eyes as he bridges the gap.

As your mouths slot together, the thought that _this_ is not how either of you pictured the argument ending was a shared one. The pressure of his lips on yours lasted for all a heartbeat before he hurriedly pulled away, more of a peck than a kiss.

“Damn.” He breathes, face close enough for you to see where his dilated pupils melted into the darkness of his iris.

You whole-heartedly agree, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. The rush of adrenaline has your over-thinking mind taking a backseat as he dives in for more. This time the kiss lasts much longer, possessing all the sentiments that neither of you could voice. The heat of anger and vexation flavoured with the usual arousal made for a heady concoction.

Not once did you consider him the type to be experienced in this particular skill, yet he leaves your head spinning as he tenuously licks into your mouth. A small noise leaves your throat only for it to be greedily eaten up by Goshiki. Tongues gliding together, you wrap your arms around him, with one hand buried in thick black hair and the other clasping his shoulder to pull him closer.

You become acutely aware of a roughened hand slipping up your thigh, travelling underneath you skirt, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake and a need to get closer. The boundaries between your bodies crumple to dust and are left forgotten as he hastily fumbles with the buttons of your shirt, before pausing and ripping away from you, the building heat becoming suffocating.

“Wait, not in the hallway.” Goshiki flusters at the possibility of his team mates catching him like this. Even though he was wholly enjoying the feel of you wrapped around him, they’d never let him live it down.

Decision made, he picks you up with a grunt and your legs automatically wrap around his thick torso for stability. Offered the opportunity, you seize the time to admire the strength he’s built from training, able to feel the way his muscles flex as he walks you into the change room.

Closing the door behind him with a kick, no time is wasted as he plops you down on the cold bench. Finding yourself missing the warmth, with a simply tug on his sweatshirt and he’s falling back into you. Eager mouths collide once again, this time with the added element of wondering hands, of which the larger pair nudge you insistently to fall back against the hard wood.

Tangling your fingers in his short hair, giving intermittent short pulls whenever he twists his tongue against yours – something that makes your heart skip – you found it all too easy to lose yourself in him. Goshiki seemed to also enjoy the messy make-out, if the feel of something hard pressing into your thigh was anything to go by.

Breaking apart, you rest your forehead against his. “Do you want to –“

Goshiki’s eyes burn into you as he cuts you off with a single word. “More.”

“Great.” You reply easily, inwardly thrilled. You have no idea how far this may go but damn if you weren’t turned on and ready to see where you’ll end up.

Going to sit back up, he stops the movement by firmly pushing you down and leaning his weight onto where the hand on your chest. Your breath stutters out of you as the other one tentatively grasps the hem of the skirt and flips it up, exposing your panties. The action feels more obscene then him simply taking it off. Never in your life have you been more thankful for the bright, in-your-face royal purple uniform in your life.

Curiosity blatantly written across Goshiki’s features, it belatedly strikes him that that he’s never actually _seen_ a real woman in this position - he wasn’t foolish enough to think that porn was realistic. Explorative touches down the slight dip in the cotton and wondering gaze freeze when you let out a quiet moan

“ _There_.”

Recovering from the way his heart palpitated at the command, Goshiki rushes to rub over the same spot and is rewarded by another sweet sound. It’s honestly the highest form of praise and he can feel it going to his head, but he can’t find it within himself to care.

“Your underwear…” His words wonder off as he presses against the wet spot and you suck a sharp breath between your teeth.

“Yeah, that happens when you do it right,” you answer the question he left hanging in the air while trying your hardest not to grind up into the pressure.

Seemingly more interested in the wet patch than your snide remark, Goshiki keeps his eyes fastened on the growing wetness of the cotton as he presses it into you. It felt a little pathetic that he’s barely _doing_ anything and the temptation to reverse your positions and ride him grows with every press of rough fingers.

Fed up with the barely-there teasing, a petulant frown decorates his face as you brush his hand away, kick a leg over his head and hastily discard the offending piece of fabric. Settling back onto the bench, heat washes though your cheeks at your own impatience.

Thankfully, you have no time to feel shy as Goshiki grabs your thighs, parting them for him to slip between, and the heat in your face burns fiercer at the action.

“You’re beautiful.” He says earnestly, cheeks a matching pink. Your cheeks continue to burn, and you try not to squirm under the ill-timed determined expression he was making.

“Well if you’re not going to start,” you huff, breaking eye contact, hand reaching down only for it to be pinned to the bench beside your thigh.

“Let me!” He offers, muted excitement now palpable along with his outburst.

Giving a hesitant nod, you hope doubt isn’t written clear over your face. From all that you’ve heard about Goshiki from others, delicate and gentle were not the immediate words one thought of to describe him with. Still, you’d give him the benefit of a doubt.

Goshiki seemingly had more experience than you’d assumed, barely looking away from your face as his hand dips low and gives a cautious stroke between your folds. Giving him a crooked smile of reassurance, Goshiki hums to himself as calloused fingertips expertly skim around the ring of your entrance in record time.

This has you holding your breath, not wanting him to take away the slight pressure, even though it was nowhere near what you wanted. He does a few circles around, enough to try your patience yet again, and you’re about to do the damn job yourself until Goshiki’s lips connect with yours again, tongue swiping in and eating your drawn out moan as he finally slips a single digit inside.

Even though it’s just the one, it already had your blood racing as he began stretching you out. With fingers more apt to slamming balls on the other side of the net, the considerably longer and thicker digits took little to no time opening you up.

“Oh _god_.” You mutter into the back of a tight fist, trying to mute the more obscene noises that slipped out of you.

Now panting, you hope that he’s playing around now and that his size isn’t big to warrant him working so fastidiously, only stopping when your shaking thighs suddenly tense, to keenly watch as you cum from his fingers alone, fluids flowing out and drenching his hand.

Going limp against the bench, you find yourself uncaring of him pulling out and examining the residue. Through the cottony feel of your mind, you hear the squeal of metal opening and shutting, punctuated with the sound of fabric hitting the floor.

Squinting through misty eyes, you catch sight of Goshiki shucking off his pants and underwear with a silver condom packet nestled between his teeth. Noticing your stare, he offers you a nervous shrug before he joins you back on the bench, kneeling between your spread legs.

Curious to see what was poking your thigh not even moments ago, you glance down to find his dick standing proudly. Weirdly, the best description for it is ‘sensible’, much like his personality, with a promising-looking vein running along the top to the pink leaking tip.

Caught-up in your staring, Goshiki busies himself with fumbling to open the slippery packet. A rosy blush covers his cheek when you laugh as he finally tears it open. With movements too practiced, he slips the protection on and gives himself a pump with a slicked-up hand.

Sudden nervousness hits him like a tidal wave as it dawns on him that he’s about to fuck you, someone that pissed him off like it was your profession, in the team’s one sacred place.

“Is this uh… Is this alright?”

The jagged edges of residual anger from the confrontation softens under his attentiveness. “Yeah, this is fine. You’re doing good, Goshiki.”

He preens under your compliment and spitefully you wished to take it back.

“Here I go.” He says hesitantly, placing his cockhead at your entrance, as if waiting for you to back down. Instead you stare at him expectantly, ignoring how the air is rife with tension.

Exhaling slowly, the nerve don’t dissipate when he carefully presses into you, slow enough to drive you insane. In the back of your mind, you knew he was trying his hardest to not hurt you, but the rest of your mind screamed for more, uncaring of the consequences.

Hips pressed flushed to yours, both of you remain still, allowing you to adjust to the new intrusion. It was a feat to acclimate to something that has a significant size difference to his fingers, trialling squeezes left Goshiki squirming with the need to move. The corners of your lips tug downwards into an annoyed frown at his impatience.

“Fine,” you sigh, continuing to act unaffected as your pulse skyrockets, “you can start now.”

“Are you sure?” The pointless question irked you. Goshiki couldn’t be anymore obvious in the way that he perked up at your permission.

“Yes, please start before I start second-guessing myself.”

The strained words seemingly lit a fire under him, eyes burning with a new intensity that incinerates those non-existent second thoughts.

“I won’t let you.” He swears, grabbing your hips in a fierce grip, ready for what was about to come.

A startled moan escapes you as he starts pounding into you with the same vigour he reserves for the court. No reservations are held by him in showing off the strength he’s developed during arduous training, thoughtlessly using his hold on you to pull you onto his dick all while thrusting up into you, striking deep and hard with every stroke.

The zealous pace left you in a state; eyes rolling into the back of your head, hastened breaths and heat swelling and lighting each nerve on fire. While each bruising impact of his hips against your pelvis, you become aware that maybe you might have a thing for strong guys as something deep in your gut starts dully pulsing with a warning.

Grabbing onto his forearm desperately, you shout orders, obeying the need your body tells you to chase after, albeit feeling a little frazzled that it took no time at all for him to bring you close.

“Harder! Faster, please, go _faster_!”

Goshiki’s strokes stutter as he gives you an incredulous look. Probably thinking that if he did go faster, he’d risk unintentionally hurting you, something you surprisingly find yourself not minding.

“It’s fine,” you breathlessly reassure, “I don’t care if you break me.”

Those magical words did the trick. Goshiki’s features harden into one of intense concentration as he readjusts his grip on your body, shuffling just that bit closer. Pushing back into your hole, you can feel the friction he generates as he strives to fuck you harder than before.

It is such a head rush to command such a headstrong guy around, having him rush to fulfill each demand, regardless of the reservations he initially possessed. Your anger from earlier melts away at his determined attitude to please you – and that in itself was arousing.

A litany of curses mixed with praise pour from your mouth as he marks up your throat. With each press of his lips, he leaves behind possessive marks in the forms of pink spots ranging from small enough to go unnoticed to large enough to earn you a few raised eyebrows. They were silent claims over someone he didn’t recognise he desired… That was until you forced his hand to realise.

Pulses of pleasure ricochet around your body and coalesce in your gut, dully aching synchronously with the new bruises decorating your upper chest. The thought of him marking you up turned you on more than you would’ve liked, and it’s helped by the small noises of pleasure that spill from his mouth when you unexpectedly clench around him.

Greedy to hear more, you continue to flutter around him. It’s a heavenly sensation that makes him worry that maybe he hit his head and that this was an embarrassingly vivid wet dream. You do it more frequently the closer you get, and his mind wipes clean and body goes into override and ruts into you furiously, seeking the end.

Picking up on the fact that you liked it rough from before, Goshiki takes a dive and scrapes his teeth against the column of your throat, knowing he hit gold when you choke out a whine. Desperate to make you cum before he did, Goshiki buries his teeth into your flesh the same time as he rough shoves into you, pressing roughly against your poor clit.

The act of desperation pushes you off the crumbling edge, hurtling you into transient euphoria as your body seizes under Goshiki.

“ _Yes!_ ” You shout, head tipping back and smacking against the hard wood.

The way you tighten around him, forbidding him to leave and sucking him in further, Goshiki couldn’t resist joining you and spilling into the condom, hot and heavy, with a low groan.

Heavy pants fill the sudden quiet, trying to cool down the slowly abating heat, which wasn’t helped by Goshiki’s furnace of a body draped over your form. Giving a weak push to his shoulders, a grunt sounds out as he cautiously pulls out and sits at the end of the bench, wiping sweat from his brow.

You weren’t faring much better than him, shivering at both the feel of fresh air hitting your skin and the feel of your own fluids covering your upper thighs. You watch through lidded eyes as he takes off the used condom, tying it up and tossing it perfectly into the bin.

Turning back to you, he says, “Was that good enough motivation to cheer properly at our games?” Cockiness is reinstalled with a single look at your wrecked form. His performance definitely earned it but even at gun point you’d be hard-pressed to admit it.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” You lightly tease, ignoring the way your heart squeezes when his rich laugh fills the air and his eyes cutely crinkle at the corner.

* * *

The next time you’re enlisted to cheer for the volleyball team, it’s the first Interhigh game of your second year. The general atmosphere of the stadium was up in the clouds with anticipation and school spirit. You doubted the cheer team’s pep was needed to add to this, yet the look on Goshiki’s face when you smile down at him is well worth the insanely early start.

Unlike the previous routines, you threw yourself into this rally. Arms poised at perfect angles and exclaiming the school cheer at the top of your lungs, you were finally acting like a cheerleader. Judging by the surprised look your captain gave you, even she was floored by the amount of vigour you exhibited.

For every ounce of energy you put out, Goshiki matched it. With every spike he would raise a fist into the air in the direction of the stands the Shiratorizawa student body occupied, elation spilling over as you whoop along with the crowd as the point difference climbed in Shiratorizawa’s favour.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team had not a single clue as to what went down between you two after they left. They were just thankful that your differences had been solved without much interference on their part. It was a unanimous vote that they all much preferred the exchanging of secretive glances than Goshiki’s passive aggressive comments any day, even at the cost of never again being able to look at the change room the same.

**Author's Note:**

> And with that I now have three Shirabu fics and a Semi one half-written up… Maybe if I focus on one project at a time I might be able to release more than one fic a month ahaha


End file.
